Before the Fold, there had been raids to flush out Grisha. Bonfires as tall as trees, Grisha burning and screaming in all of them. Before he showed them, showed the whole damned world, that Grisha were too important and too dangerous to burn. This child is not Grisha, her plight is not his, but adversity makes for strange bedfellows and she showed courage. Going for the food, stealing it even if it meant paying the price for it later.

"I expect nothing from you, Eponine," her strange name, her accent. "We're both prisoners here. To have even a chance to escape, it's better to be two than one."

He takes a bite from the crust of bread in his hand, stale and hard as rock, but it's a meal. With a soft hand on her arm, he frowns, "You're a miss if you want to be one. Never let anyone tell you any different." There's no flash of light from her, no wind or fire sparking from her fingertips. Did this place take away his Living Amplifier as well, or is this child simply otkazat'sya? It doesn't matter for the moment and he allows his hand to linger before he sits back.

"I never saw rats like that. Thank you for shedding light to a different side of them. The clever, resilient one."